


Reflection Pass

by ayerlind



Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), IM2 missing scene, M/M, Tony and I might share a few proclivities, Workshop Floor Shenanigans, and...Rhodey, angst and smut and humour and fluff and more smut all the fuck at once, like dogtags and uniforms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-16
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 07:26:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayerlind/pseuds/ayerlind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony's feeling reckless.  Naturally, blowjobs ensue.  Set during IM2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reflection Pass

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to suspectedbooklegger and Jenwyn for the amazing betas. 
> 
> The reflection pass: <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Tbirdsreflectionpass.jpg>

"I'm looking at you," Jim murmured, rubbing his jaw anxiously.  He had _never_ seen Tony this messed up before.  He was still banged up from his brush with a bad idea in Monaco, for one thing, sporting a couple of scrapes and burns on his face and neck, but that wasn't the part that had Jim so worried.  He wasn't drunk, he wasn't high or anything, just... hell, he couldn't even put a name to it.  

Tony's dark hazel eyes, usually so full of curiosity and intelligence and smart-ass wit were empty and flat and shadowed, sickly bruising underneath them a stark contrast to the pallor of his usually California-golden skin.  There were more shallow wrinkles creasing his forehead than Jim remembered, and a touch more grey streaking the fine hair at his temples.  Malicious looking dark lines were tracing their way up the sides of his neck, blossoming out from the collar of his layered shirts, like oil tracing the cracks in a sidewalk.

Frustrated with the silence, and at himself for not having somehow caught this sooner, whatever _this_ was, Jim sighed, eyes tracing Tony's familiar outline as he chewed on his next words.  "You want to do this whole lone gunslinger act, and it's unnecessary," he finally said, and it came out sounding just a little more harsh than he'd meant.  He softened his voice. "You don't have to do this alone."

"You know, I wish I could believe that," Tony mumbled.  "I really do."  He sat up, turning around a little to look at the other man, but stopped short, knowing that Jim was the only one who could see right past his bullshit.  He stared at the floor instead and gave a defeated sigh.  "But you gotta trust me.  Contrary to popular belief, I know exactly what I'm doing."  He did finally turn and force himself to look at his friend, then looked down again, glaring at his shoes.  His own voice echoed in his head, the same question he had asked himself in that fancy French bathroom.

"What, then?" Jim pushed himself off of the part of the desk that he was leaning on .  He squatted down in front of Tony, getting in his line of sight and putting his hand on his friend’s knee, squeezing gently, trying to hold his attention.  "If you know what you're doing, _tell_ me.  What are you doing?"

Tony still refused to meet his gaze, instead looking at the hand on his knee.  He covered it with his own hand, swallowing as he locked fingers with his best friend.   His eyes finally flickered up, but instead of the distant, empty look from before, Tony's eyes were wide and bright, hot with determination and sparkling with wild recklessness.  It was a look that Jim had seen before, usually immediately followed by phrases like 'Ever been to Iceland on a suborbital jet?' or 'Bail money is under the mattress if I'm not back by midnight!'

Sliding down from his chair, Tony landed hard on his knees facing the other man, still holding Jim's left hand tightly in his right.  He curled his arm in toward his chest, pulling Jim toward him at the same time as he pressed the older man's palm against his arc reactor.  His eyes were focused, so focused, boring into Jim's, heat burning into his brain and down his throat and into his stomach and lower and down to his toes and all the way back up his spine.  Tony's other hand came up to rest lightly on the other man's neck, rough fingertips stroking the soft skin in front of his ear, thumb brushing Jim's cheekbone, tracing the angle of his jaw.  His grasp got firmer as he slid himself forward, legs akimbo, leaning in closer until they were breathing each other's air, and Jim could smell chlorophyll and licorice and the somehow inherently expensive, earthy scent of Tony's body wash.  Jim felt a twinge in his chest and realised that he had forgotten to breathe.

"Tony," he gasped softly.

"I know exactly what I'm doing," Tony whispered against his lips, then sealed his mouth over Jim's.  He let go of the other man's hand, which grasped gently at the front of his shirt, and ran his own fingers lightly over Jim's short hair and down the back of his neck until he was cupping his face with both hands, rolling his jaw slightly and tilting his head to invite Jim deeper.

Jim's eyes fluttered closed and he saw stars behind his lids, a cacophony of _wantneedhotwettouchkiss_ jamming his brain and leaving him dizzy, or maybe that was the deluge of blood that suddenly rushed southward.  “Are you sure?” he heard himself ask, pulling back for a second to peer into the younger man’s eyes; his answer came in the form of Tony’s incredulous ‘are you fucking _serious_?’ look, which drew a chuckle out of him and he put up his hands in surrender before placing the left one back on Tony’s chest before he could whine.  His right found its way to the other engineer’s waist as Jim brushed his nose against Tony’s, leaning back into the kiss.  Thumb hooked into one of Tony’s belt loops, Jim pulled him closer, trying to kiss the very tension out of his body, relieved when he felt Tony relax against him.  

Tony made a soft noise of approval as Jim's tongue slid between his lips and back out, teasing.  His hands slipped from framing Jim's face to rest on his chest, ever-restless fingers wrapping around his tie, fidgeting with the gleaming silver wings on his shirt, flicking open the buttons and tracing his dogtags through the thin white undershirt that he wore.  

Once he had Jim's shirt half unbuttoned, he used his grip on the fabric to move them into a more comfortable position than kneeling on the hard floor.  Tony tipped to the side and let himself sprawl back onto his ass, flailing a little bit as he fell, but never letting go of Jim's shirt. A breathless giggle escaped his lips as he pulled Jim down with him.  The older man let himself laugh, too, seeing Tony make his way out of the dark, and he teetered off balance as Tony rocked away, letting Tony lead him down until they were both stretched out on the floor and Tony could catch him in another hungry kiss, left hand wandering back to his tie, which he couldn't help tugging forcefully, wrapping it around his hand like a short, silk leash.

"Mmm _.. shit_ ," Jim murmured, voice almost rough enough to call it a growl.  

Tony nipped at Jim's lower lip and pulled back from him, grinning, eyes a dark and wet hazel as they searched Jim's in the soft light of his workshop.  He didn't give the older man a chance to say anything else.  Fingers tightened around the tie, he pushed the airman flat on his back, pressing hot, suckling kisses along his jaw and down his neck to the ridge of his clavicle.  He squirmed until he was on top of the other man, knees trapping his thighs, leaning down chest to chest as his hands wandered.

"You are wearing," the billionaire mumbled against Jim's skin, tongue flicking into the hollow notch above the his sternum, " _way_ too many clothes."  Shaking his hair out of his eyes, Tony braced himself on one hand while the other loosened the tie and made quick work of Jim's crisp and immaculate service dress shirt, the light blue material pooling at Jim's sides once the shirt was unbuttoned and untucked, tiny clinks against the hard floor made by his pins.  If he noticed his arm shaking a little bit under the stress of his weight, he ignored it, turning a wicked grin onto his friend.  "I mean, we both know I have a _thing_ for this uniform, but it's kind of in the way now."

"Then you should work on that, lazy," Jim teased, leaning up in an abdominal crunch so that Tony could divest him of his shirt and undershirt.  He opened his mouth to say something else but dissolved into appreciative chuckles at Tony's impatience trying to undo his tie, yelping as the undershirt got caught under his chin.  Tony swore at it, then gave it a mighty yank.  " _Ow_! Relax, baby. I'm not going anywhere, goddamn." Jim swatted him sharply on the ass, drawing a squeak from the younger man.

Tony stuck his tongue out and dropped the bunched up fabric on Jim's face.  "Jackass!" he retorted with a giggle.  Jim's lean body shook with a deep belly laugh and he took the shirts and balled them up, stuffing them under his head so that he didn't smack it against the floor.  
"It takes one to know one," he shot back childishly, then twined his fingers into the fabric of Tony's sleeves and pulled him down, kissing the protests from his best friend's lips.  

Laying one palm flat against the smooth plane of Jim's chest, Tony caressed downwards, fingers ghosting over a dark nipple, tracing over each sculpted muscle of his abdomen, tickling around his navel, blunt fingernails drawing an invisible pattern until he was reaching between his own legs to get to Jim's fly, one finger pressing along the zipper from the outside and running it from top to bottom, putting pressure on the hardness beneath.  "Still not naked," he lamented again, sighing deeply.  

Jim rolled his eyes and his hands took a chance to do their own wandering, calloused palms sliding under Tony's shirts to drift up and down the engineer's back, feeling his firm muscles shifting under his hot skin.  "I could say the same about you," he remarked playfully.  Tony's hand - the one that wasn't teasing at the airman's fly - reached blindly over his own shoulder, grasping at his back until he gathered a handful of fabric and he tugged, breaking contact with Jim just long enough to divest himself of the shirts that he was wearing.  

Just as they popped over his head, Tony swore to himself, remembering why he wasn't going to do that.

Jim saw his chest.  

"Tony," he said softly, and even without raising his voice, he saw Tony react as if he had been doused with cold water.  At least that explained why Tony wouldn't face him until he had changed the reactor earlier.  "What--"

"No," Tony protested, face set in determination.  "Not right now.  Please.  Rhodey, just... I need... I don't want to deal with this _right_ the fuck now, okay?" His voice rose into a pleading whine and he sat up reluctantly, putting his weight on Jim's thighs and making sure to slide his ass back against the straining bulge in the older man's slacks as he did, dropping his very best puppy eyes on him.  Jim reached up, eyes gazing incredulously into Tony's as his fingertips traced the lines of poisoned blood that radiated out from the casing of his reactor.  

"Man..." Jim murmured. "Why didn't you...?"  He swallowed, bringing a thumb to his mouth and chewing anxiously on the pad of his finger.

Tony caught him at the wrist, his face uncharacteristically open and vulnerable as he pulled Jim's hand up and laid his cheek against it, held it hard, kissed his knuckles.  "I will," he insisted softly.  He hated seeing Jim distraught, hated even more when he was the cause of it (and let's face it - he was always the cause of it).  "Just... bear with me, honeybear."  That got both of them to crack a smile, and Tony leaned down with a sigh, resting his full weight on top of his best friend, head on his chest, arm lying on his stomach.  He picked up Jim's dogtags from where they rested on his chest and flipped them over; he'd read them a hundred times, but it was still comforting, the cool metal and the texture of the pressed letters, the little _jingle-thud_ as he dropped them again.  "I will tell you everything, just not right now."  

Jim's strong arms came around Tony and held him protectively in a tight hug, running his fingers through the younger man’s hair, and Tony found himself content to stay that way for a few minutes, eyes closed, breathing in Jim's scent, lost in the feeling of his nerves tingling up in the wake of Jim's fingers as they massaged his scalp and trailed down his neck and across his shoulder.  If the hard reactor casing against his chest was uncomfortable for Jim in any way, he didn't bring it up.  Tony tipped his chin up and looked Jim in the eye, already knowing what he would see.  No judgement, no disappointment, no pity, just Rhodey, _his_ Rhodey, with decades of affection and concern and memories and regrets and happiness that swirled together into an expression that always made Tony's stomach do a little flip.  A sappier person might call it love, but Tony was not that sappy, thank you very much. 

He leaned up, wordlessly asking for a kiss, and Jim tilted his head down, the tip of his tongue sneaking out to guide Tony's lower lip between his own.  They rolled to the side as they kissed, Tony sliding off to the right, landing on his elbow and propping himself up so that he didn't break the kiss while the fingers of his left hand found Jim's fly again, flicking the button and unzipping it in one fluid motion, officially done with foreplay.  Jim twisted at the hips, still about half hard, but after a few seconds of Tony's fingers and palm and warm, dry grip, he was back up and running, hips giving involuntary twitches as he pushed into Tony's fist.  He broke the kiss and looked down, lids heavy and tongue darting out to wet his swollen lips as he watched himself fucking Tony's hand, leaving Tony (never a fan of being idle) to resume his attack on the older man's neck, teeth and tongue conducting a thorough exploration of every inch of flesh that they could find.  He kept up a steady rhythm below, his wrist swiveling every few seconds, thumb brushing over the sensitive head of Jim's cock as they met somewhere between jacking and thrusting.  

Drawing a distinctly unmanly whine from the airman, Tony let up the oral assault that he had just begun on Jim's ear and shot him a bright, shit-eating grin.

"What?  What's that face?" Jim asked suspiciously, propping himself up on an elbow to better appreciate the deep laugh lines that framed Tony's handsome features.   

Tony smirked.  "What face, goose?" he asked slyly.  He sat slowly up and spun around, leaning back on his hands to emphasise the erection tenting his jeans.  "Base to Colonel Rhodes, I'm in need of some assistance here," he said teasingly, wiggling his hips; Jim shook his head, grinning and reaching up to poke Tony in the forehead.  

"Mental assistance, maybe," he said.  Tony dropped his jaw and gave him his best hurt and shocked expression, pressing a hand to his chest.  

"And here I thought you were going to get a blowjob," he said, tone laced with disappointment.  His sparkling eyes twitched and crinkled in the corners but he kept a pretty impressive straight face. "It was going to be phenomenal.  The best one you've ever had.  Mind blowing... blowing.  But you had to ruin it."

"I'm gonna ruin _you_ in a second," Jim retorted, and when Tony dissolved into a peal of giggles ("Has Hammer been giving you lessons in sass?"), he reached forward, two fingers sneaking up the leg of Tony's jeans and yanking a pinch of leg hair.

Tony howled indignantly, kicking the other engineer in the hip hard enough to bruise.  "Oww! Fuck everything about you, evil!  You know what? Just put your dick away right now.  I am so done with you.  Get out of my house."

Jim yelped and smirked, eyes glinting impishly as he rubbed his aching hip.  "Fine," he said loftily, arching one eyebrow in a pretty perfect suit-your-fucking-self expression.  "I'll just take care of it myself."  His dogtags slipped off to the side of his neck, hitting the floor with a _tink_ as Jim rolled slowly back onto his back, all mischievous and wriggling and scooting, his stomach stretching hollow and then tensing into rippled muscle, one arm behind his head and the other reaching down so that he could take himself in hand.  He locked eyes with the other engineer as he began to touch himself, long and lazy strokes that Tony's eyes flickered down to follow slowly up and down.  Unthinking, Tony licked his lips and Jim mirrored it, smirking.  "Sorry," Jim murmured lazily after a minute or two of self-indulgence, enjoying the look on Tony's face almost as much as he had been enjoying Tony's attentions earlier, "did you want something?"

He reached for Tony with the hand that wasn't on his cock and grabbed a handful of his jeans, muscles in his arm bulging as he dragged Tony closer, close enough to hook his fingers into belt and pull the slack out, then set to the buckle.  

Tony whined when his private show was paused, and just as Jim anticipated, when he let his hand come to rest at the base of his erection, Tony's need for instant gratification kicked in and he reached over, batting Jim's hand out of the way in order to take over.  Jim hummed appreciatively as Tony gripped him, then directed his focus to the task of yanking Tony's jeans and black silk boxers down his legs, leaving them tangled around his shoes for him to just deal with later.  He struggled for a second with Tony's legs, wrestling the distracted man into a position that allowed for Jim to rest his head on Tony's thigh, and without any further ado whatsoever, he took Tony into his mouth, tongue dancing around the sensitive flesh as he sucked.  

Tony groaned, a low whine on the inhale as he dropped his arm out from under him and stretched out on his side.  A lusty, heavy-lidded grin on his face, he curled closer, pulling Jim's slacks and briefs just far enough down his thighs to fully expose him. He nuzzled his nose into the coarse hair in the crease of his thigh, goatee scratching deliciously fiery against Jim's hypersensitive skin as he licked his way from the base to the tip and back down, then back up, teasing maddeningly.  

Jim canted his hips, a pleading whine building in the back of his throat without the means to escape.  The younger man picked himself back up onto his elbow and cut off Jim's whine before it had a chance to crescendo, reaching the head of his cock and wiggling his tongue teasingly against the slit before taking it into his mouth.  He sucked the head, tongue swirling and fluttering against hot skin as he wrapped Jim's shaft in a loose fist.

There was a heavy silence in the workshop, then, punctuated by muffled, wet sounds and the soft occasional moan.  Locked together in a sixty-nine on the floor, the two found solace in each others' presence and passion and persistence.  Tony couldn't keep his hands still as he sucked the airman off, palms gliding along Jim's muscular thighs, fingers walking the ridge of his pelvis along his hip and around to squeeze and knead the softer flesh of his backside.  "Your ass," Tony felt compelled to comment, letting his hand take over for his mouth for a while when the thought came to him, "is fucking ridiculous."

Jim hummed a laugh around Tony's length then followed suit, licking his lips as he smirked down at the billionaire.  "I've never heard you complain," he pointed out.

Tony laughed.  "We both know that's not true," he admitted, grinning. 

"About my ass," Jim said with a chuckle.  Voice taking on a more sincere tone, he asked, "How you doing down there?  You do have two couches down here, you know."

Tony shifted his arm and angled his hips to a more comfortable position.  "Well, I _was_ recently attacked by a crazy Russian guy, and I'm not as young as I used to be," he said, shooting a wry twist of a smile down at his chest.  "But I'm good if you're good."

Jim's response was the briefest of smirks before he put his hand on Tony's hip and pushed him flat onto his back.  Tony's eyes widened and he landed with an ' _oof_!' and Jim, still with that devilish grin, finally shucked his pants all the way off and swung himself up to kneel over him, 'ridiculous' ass in the air, his groin positioned right over Tony face.  He nipped a little at the light trail of hair that led down from Tony's navel, but he had never been the slow-build-up type and wasted no time in reclaiming the other man's flushed arousal, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked and bobbed, entire spine curving with his movements.  

Tony only wasted the briefest of moments in his pleasant surprise before he reached up, taking advantage of his position and sliding his palms up the posterior of Jim's thighs to the ass that he was so rudely cut off from fondling earlier.  He bit gently into the soft flesh where thigh met glute, craning his neck and lifting his shoulders and swiping his tongue along the stretch of skin of Jim's perineum, then over his balls, tonguing and mouthing them and grinning as Jim squirmed on his elbows and knees, his dogtags trailing coolly across Tony's stomach. He felt Jim's rhythm on his cock stutter to a halt, then pick up again, felt more so than heard as he moaned his approval, the vibrations lighting a fire at the base of his spine.  The fire traveled up and back down, settling deep in his belly, throbbing heat pulsing wildly in the very middle of him.  

"Rhodey," he murmured.  He let his head rest back on the ground, fingers gripping Jim's thighs as his hips started to twitch up.  Jim stilled, a hand wrapping around and gripping Tony's hip, encouraging his thrusts until Tony was all but fucking his mouth.  "Rhodey," he repeated, more urgently this time.  He squeezed the airman's legs, a final warning, and Jim hummed his permission (or what Tony damn well hoped was his permission), bringing Tony over the edge into climax, forcing his hips still as Jim swallowed around him, thumb and forefinger of one hand milking him through until the end.  

Tony gasped and shuddered, squirmed and groaned, then as soon as his coordination returned to him, he leaned up again and wasted no time in swallowing Jim's cock near to the hilt, hollowing his cheeks and sucking in earnest.  He flattened his tongue against the turgid vein and traced it to the tip, then tightened his lips around the head and bobbed up and back down, tongue fluttering.  Jim panted a wordless, formless warning, dropped his forehead against Tony's stomach, shuddered, and came in a hot and heavy rush, whispering Tony's name over and over against his sweaty skin.  

One day, Tony _would_ tell him everything.  If he had to.  But for now, he was content to push Jim playfully off of him, sit up and spit into the trashcan and tell JARVIS to start the shower in the master bath.  After all, he had a birthday party to throw, and they needed to start procrastinating right now if he was going to shoot for fashionably late.


End file.
